


It's Christmas, Clint Barton!

by theomnisquid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomnisquid/pseuds/theomnisquid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is a grinch who hates Christmas. And this is why he chooses to go on missions at Christmastime rather than sit at home in his underwear wallowing in self pity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Christmas, Clint Barton!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [varjohaltija](https://archiveofourown.org/users/varjohaltija/gifts).



> Alright, I took some artistic liberties with Clint's childhood and with how Clint and Natasha met. I feel like Clint's characterization may be slightly off. But not by much. This is unedited because I am turning it in so last minute.
> 
> I also would like to apologize for people who live in Norway. Clint doesn't really hate your country, he is just grumpy.
> 
> Anyway, I hope the person receiving this gift fic, enjoys it and isn't disappointed by it.

**Christmas 1992**

Clint was without a doubt a grinch. He hated Christmas. He hated the false cheeriness that permeated the air during this season. He hated the lights and the tinsel and the stupid songs that got stuck in his head.

So yes, Clint Barton was a grinch. But in his opinion he had every right to be one. Growing up, his parents sure as hell didn’t give a damn about trying to make christmas a magical experience for him or his brother. No tree, no Santa and definitely no presents. Then his parents died because his dad couldn’t keep his hands off a bottle and Barney and him were shipped off to an orphanage. He had just as many scars from there as he did from his father. Then they did what all kids dream of doing. They ran away and joined the circus, where christmastime was spent in the warmer states and was just another day of the year. Clint Barton was a grinch and he liked it that way.

Clint being a grinch and all around grump at christmastime was the reason he readily accepted missions that took place over the holiday. No need to sit at home alone in his underwear, wallowing in self pity. Not when he could be in Siberia, freezing his balls off this year.

“Fuck Siberia.” Clint thinks and even expresses his sentiments out loud.

“We’re in Norway. Siberia is roughly 4, 523 kilometers away.” His handler’s voice crackles over his comm link. Clint kinda wishes he could kill someone with the power of his mind right now. He puffs his breath out in an irritated huff and bounces on his feet trying to warm up. He’s beginning to think that he actually might have preferred to be home in his underwear watching reruns of “I Love Lucy.”

Minutes later he is blindsided by a blur of black and red. For a moment or two his eyes refuse to focus on anything and he thinks that he might be being attacked by one of Santa’s elves, it is so tiny. Later when he has gotten his bearings back, he’ll see that he is getting his ass kicked by a god damned red headed ten year old girl. Even later, he’ll learn she was actually only eight. Their mission is a spectacular failure. Clint hates christmas a little more. Especially Christmas in Siberia. He punches his handler in the jaw the next time he sees him. Clint doesn’t care that they are in fucking Norway and not Siberia. Clint is assigned a new handler by next Christmas.

**Christmas 2006**

Clint still very much hates Christmas. But he will admit, he is a little more excited for the holiday due to Nat’s unbridled enthusiasm for the festivities. In the nine months he has been partnered with the red headed assassin, he has grown very fond of her. So fond of her, that he doesn’t really mind the terribly off key christmas carols, she has been singing into the comm links for the past hour.

“Rio De Janeiro is a whole hell of a lot warmer than Siberia.” Clint comments over Nat’s particularly bad rendition of “White Christmas”

“I believe the report was very insistent that you were in Norway that year.” Phil Coulson, his new handler’s voice crackles over the comm. Clint grins in spite of himself, because of course Coulson would have read all mission reports from any missions Clint had been on. And of course, he would have remember a small detail about Siberia on a mission from 1992.

“It was Norway.” Natasha interjects, temporarily pausing in her singing. “I was there. I was eight.” Clint chuckles to himself as Natasha resumes her singing.

“Yeah, you kicked some ass that year.” He replies. “Almost got fired from my job because of you.” Natasha doesn’t respond. Her singing gets louder though as she takes out a few henchmen. 

Their mission is a resounding success. When Clint walks into their safe house, Coulson greets him at the door with a celebratory mug of eggnog.

“Great work. “ Coulson tells him with a pat on the back.

“Nat did all the work.” Clint responds and it is the truth. As Clint moves away from the door, Nat clears her throat at him and point up to the ceiling at a bundle of green and red. Judging by the expectant look on her face, she placed it there. Clint looks at Phil’s face. His heart is beating fast, but Phil’s face is impassive.

“That’s holly. Mistletoe has white berries.” Clint says and pushes his way past her and Phil. He might kinda want to kiss Coulson. But he isn’t ready to feel the burn of heartbreak because Phil doesn’t want to kiss him back. Behind him, Natasha releases a string of russian curses and he hears the thump of a knife embedding itself into wood.

**Christmas 2012**

Clint is sitting at home in his underwear. He is numb. Totally and completely numb. Coulson’s dead and he is at home, alone without a mission for the first time in over ten years. He still isn’t cleared for duties from New York. There was talk of maybe after the new year. And he needed to rest and possible early retirement. But he doesn’t want to rest and he isn’t ready for retirement and he doesn’t want to sit at home alone in his underwear at Christmas. He wishes he could call up Natasha and have her come over. She’d know how to cheer him up. But she is on a mission in Siberia. Actual real Siberia.

At his feet, his dog whines at him. Clint sighs and slides the box of pizza to the floor for Lucky to have.

“Good dog.” Clint mutters as he slumps over on the couch. Clint is a grinch who hates christmas and he hopes everyone’s trees spontaneously combust.

**Christmas 2014**

“Norway is a stupid country.” Clint tells Natasha as he lets an arrow fly at a super powered robot in a Santa suit.

“Don’t be rude.” Natasha responds to him. “Norway is a beautiful country with a rich and vibrant history.”

“Uhuh...it is a stupid country with evil robot Santas.” He replies back as he lets yet another arrow fly into the head of another evil robot Santa.

“Well at least this villain was festive about his world domination plans!” Nat chirps back at him through the comm link before humming a few bars of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” From his perch Clint can see her take out three of the Santas before she even reaches the chorus.

“Besides,” She pants out as she takes out another handful of them. “This is technically where we first met!” After they have dispatched the last evil robot Santa, they find out that the creator behind them isn’t some whacked out evil inventor bent on some sort of mission of doom. Rather it was a twelve year old boy genius who had just wanted to spread some christmas cheer by having “Santa” deliver presents to children in his village. Only some how, his programming had gotten messed up and his Santas had gone haywire.. Clint strongly suspects that SHIELD may have found a new recruit.

Clint is more than read to hop on a quinjet and fly home. His plans are sitting on the couch in his underwear, pizza and bad christmas specials. Maybe he will even invite Natasha over to watch a few movies with him. Except Natasha seems to have other ideas and his dragging him roughly by the elbow in the complete opposite direction than the one he wants to go in. She is grinning wildly at him and is saying something about how she got him a present. Honestly, he is more afraid of her than he normally is right now.

She drags him to a small bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town. She stops outside a door in the B&B that has a small whimsical sign that wishes him a “Good Jul”

“Merry Christmas, Clint.” Natasha tells him as she opens up the door to the room. Clint is certain the world stops when she opens the door. On the other side of the door is Phil. His Phil. His living, breathing, wonderful Phil Coulson.

“You died.” Clint chokes out and reaches with shaking hands towards Phil.

 

“I did.” Phil confirms, leaning into Clint’s touch.  
“How?” Clint asks as he searches Phil’s face desperately as if he thinks this is all but a dream.

“It is a Christmas miracle.” Natasha singsongs as she closes the door behind her, leaving the two of the alone.

“SHIELD brought me back. I was back in the field within a year. I wanted to tell you. I, so desperately wanted to tell you.” Phil states presses his body close against Clint’s “But I thought it was best if you all moved on and let me go. I’m sorry. I was supposed to be off the grid. But Natasha somehow found me…”

Clint closes his eyes. He breathes in and he breathes out. Beneath his palms he can feel the stubble of Phil’s five o’clock shadow. In his ear, his comm link crackles to life with Nat’s voice telling him to look up. Clint opens his eyes and grins. White berries.

As Clint presses his lips to Phil’s savoring the taste of his former handler, his heart grows three sizes. And he thinks perhaps christmas isn’t that bad.


End file.
